


In Theory

by Gigi_Sinclair



Category: Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-18
Updated: 2012-04-18
Packaged: 2017-11-03 21:37:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/386227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gigi_Sinclair/pseuds/Gigi_Sinclair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watson expounds upon a theory. Set during the 2009 movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Theory

**Author's Note:**

> First posted January 2010.

Idle minds are the devil's hunting grounds.

I had learned that many times over the course of my life, first from my nanny, then in the army, and most recently from living with Holmes. Knowing it did not prevent me from looking over to him, as we sat in our rooms one cold night when London was surrounded by thick billowing fog, and asking, "What would you do if I told you you'd won?" 

Holmes did not look up from the pamphlet in his lap: "A Study on Bullets and Bullet Wounds." Mary was dining with her employers. They had invited me to accompany her, but Mary recommended against it. Her young pupil was apparently just as embittered at losing his beloved governess as Holmes was at losing me, and even less reluctant to show it. 

At first, I thought Holmes had not heard my words or, more likely, had chosen to ignore them. I looked at the dog, who slumbered peacefully before the fire. Perhaps I would follow his lead and retire early. 

Suddenly, Holmes spoke. "I would thank you for the vote of confidence, my dear friend, but I would say you are sorely mistaken. Crime shows no signs of abating. Indeed, I am rather concerned that certain types of crime against the person have increased exponentially over the last three years and will likely continue to do so." He stood up. "I have prepared a mathematical theorem..."

I held up a hand to stop him before he went any further. "I meant, what if I told you I would break my engagement and continue to live here with you." A flicker of what might have been hope crossed Holmes' face. At once, I felt a cad for playing such a cruel game. "It is a purely theoretical question, old boy," I added quickly. 

"Of course." He gave no indication he had thought otherwise. He returned to his chair and his bullet wounds and said no more. 

I admit, on certain occasions I wondered about the precise nature of Holmes' attachment to me. While I prided myself on a certain derring-do despite my physical infirmity, nearly every man at the boxing club would make a better defender than I. On an intellectual plane, I was no dullard, but Holmes counted many brighter sparks amongst his acquaintances. Many of them would have jumped at the chance to be privy to the inner workings of the man's mind. At least as privy as anyone ever was. 

Then there was the "other." Scandalous to think of, but Holmes had taught me to examine a situation from all possible angles, and I was worldly. I knew what sins men could commit together. I'd witnessed them first-hand in the army, when desperation and fear drove men to do things they would not otherwise consider. I could not picture Holmes doing those things. True, he did not feel himself bound by the morals of decent society, but he was so lacking in feeling, so loath to touch anyone except in violence. I could not imagine him wanting to commit intimate acts, still less commit them with me.

However, Holmes also taught me to make the theory fit the facts, not the facts fit the theory. Some weeks earlier, I had awoken after a night at the club to find myself in my friend's bed. I was fully clothed, save for my shoes, hat and jacket which I immediately spotted in a heap on the floor. Holmes lay behind me, snoring like Gladstone, and his arm rested heavily over my waist. When I shifted, he mumbled incoherently and moved closer, pressing the length of his body against my back. I felt a most ungentlemanly stirring in my groin, which I put down to simple frustration. Mary, of course, would allow me nothing more than a kiss before we were wed, and out of respect for her I had curtailed my visits to less discerning "ladies." 

At the time, I quietly disengaged myself from Holmes' embrace and dealt with my personal problem in the most expeditious manner possible. When Holmes woke up an hour later, he made no mention of our unusual sleeping arrangement. I resolved to think no more about it. Now, as the fog pressed in on the windows and the fire crackled in the grate, I could not help but remember.

"Holmes." I said, then realized I did not know how to continue. There was much I wanted to tell him. I wished to offer an apology, but at the same time there was no reason for me to apologize for something so natural as desiring to marry the woman I loved. I would have liked to reassure him, but I did not know what he wanted to hear. 

He glanced up. "Watson." His expression was as neutral as ever, unreadable even to me. "If you were to, as you say, tell me that I'd won, then I would promise to spend the rest of my life ensuring you are safe and happy. Since you have chosen instead to award this role to Miss Morstan, I can only hope for your sake that you do not live to regret it." 

I snorted. "Charming, as usual."

Holmes smiled tightly. "You forget, dear boy. Miss Morstan provides the charm, I provide the excitement." He stood up. As he passed my chair, he touched me briefly on the shoulder. His hand was warm through the thin material of my third-best shirt. He disappeared into his bedroom, and a new thought sprang to my mind.

_Why can't I have both?_


End file.
